


Waiting for Rain in a Desert Storm

by ShittyHero



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Noodle Dragons, Soft Hanzo, dad!Hanzo, more tags will be added as I go to avoid spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:00:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShittyHero/pseuds/ShittyHero
Summary: Upon reaching adolescence, flowers will appear on an individual's hands, one half blooming the other still budding. As they near their soulmates, the blossoms will bloom, but for those whose love goes unrequited...The flowers begin to wither and take their host with them unless treated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a totally self-indulgent fic and I wanted to fill it with as many silly happy times as I can to counter all the sad times too ; v ; I hope you all enjoy~ 
> 
> Just a quick note, the italics indicate they are conversing in Japanese

_‘A wild flower will wither without rain, Anija.’_

Those words echoed uncomfortably in Hanzo’s head as he stared at the flowers curling delicately on his left wrist and the budding tendrils that seemed to be reaching, always reaching, for something unobtainable. Pale blue bunches with white throats, pretty to look at, but they gave off a cold feeling. It was fitting for him, he thought. _Ajisai,_ a flower that he had looked up the meaning of in his youth. They were said to symbolize heartlessness and frigidity. His gaze traced the familiar petals before they melted into silvery green tendrils that pointed in the direction of his fingers with reddish buds on the ends. There had been a time when he was curious, perhaps even eager, to see the buds bloom; desirous to know what kind of flowers they would bloom into. Just a small hint as to what his soulmate would be like. But the flowers had never bloomed, and bitterly, he thought it was only right since he had made sure that Genji’s never would either. 

Or so he had thought.

He clenched his fists tightly, obscuring those blushing red buds; nails digging so deeply into his skin that they left behind purple-red crescent moons. His brother was alive. His brother was offering him forgiveness. But why? Genji’s words echoed in his head from their last encounter, mocking words which had taunted him for the years spent mourning one who had been alive all along. Genji could have ended him there; had every right to land the finishing blow. But he did not. 

A sleepy, questioning murmur broke him out of his revery, and the feel of the tiny, warm body nestled next to his grounded him from the memories past that threatened to consume him. Tension that he hadn’t realized he was holding melted out of him as he looked fondly down at his daughter. Even if the blossoms upon his palm had never bloomed, at least he had been blessed by another relationship that had born fruit. 

‘Rest, Tsubaki. We are nearly there,’ he murmured soothingly, hugging her to him and gently stroking her head; the action settling her nerves as much as it did his. 

❀ ❀ ❀

 _“A dragon must stand their ground, proudly showing off their armored scales,”_ Hanzo reminded Tsubaki fondly while pinning the last bun into place. Echoed words that his father had used countless times on himself and Genji, but without the affection Hanzo used for his daughter. Despite having arrived at Gibraltar in the godforsaken hours of early dawn, the father-daughter combo showed little signs of tiredness as they stood impeccably dressed and prepared for the meeting that would determine whether they would be staying or not. The mirror reflected their proud countenances back at them without a strand of hair out of place. 

 

“ _Of course, Father,_ ” Tsubaki replied primly, determination in her big, grey-blue eyes. Hanzo had done her hair up in two neat buns on the sides of her head with blue ribbons and angel wing clips. She wore a simple black t-shirt and a ruffled blue-grey skirt to match her eyes. Pastel gray knee socks and shiny black boots completed her outfit. She stood straight and proud; taking after Hanzo’s stance. Pride and a pang of regret swelled inside of Hanzo at the sight. She had grown up too soon.

Hanzo’s hair was tied up neatly in a golden ribbon, looking distinguished with his greying temples properly combed and tufted, his beard as sharp and neatly trimmed as his clothes were fitted. He had opted to dress in semi-formal attire with a long sleeved, grey silk button up and black slacks that were tucked into the tops of his metal prostheses. He had lined his eyes with dark liner, defining his sharp eyes. And to which Tsubaki could only pout that he would not do the same for her. _”Not until you are older,”_ he had teased, pinching her cheek. 

 

“ _Let us go, Father?_ ” Tsubaki asked, holding out her right hand to him. 

He took her hand gently in his left, and with the A.I. Athena’s guidance, they set out for the meeting room. With Tsubaki’s hand in his, he had yet to notice the thin red petals starting to blossom on his palm. 

❀ ❀ ❀

 _“Father...It’s Goku,”_ Tsubaki whispered, eyes wide as she stared at Winston. Hanzo had coughed to stifle his laughter and tried to maintain his stiff lip to hide his amusement. He was glad that the scientist had either not understood her or had not picked up the reference.

The scientist had greeted them kindly, if a tad awkwardly, at the door, and even crouched on all fours, he still towered above Hanzo. “Ah, Hello there. Uhm, please have a seat and we’ll get the meeting started. Uh, once all the members have arrived, we can start with a round of introductions before we begin?” The gorilla swung himself up to balance along a hanging tire next to a large holoscreen with the letter ‘A’ spinning slowly in the center. 

“Father, do you think he can transform into a super saiyan?” Tsubaki asked excitedly while tugging on his sleeve, just as they neared the empty seats next to where Genji sat. 

“Why Hanzo, I thought you hated anime,” Genji teased. The familiar tone overlaid with the slightly synthetic tone of his brother’s voice was quick to put a falter to Hanzo’s smile. Even though he had given himself time to come to terms with Genji possibly being alive once more, he still couldn’t help but to feel a little overwhelmed. It wasn’t cowardice, he reasoned with himself, as he pulled the seat out directly next to Genji for Tsubaki to sit in. He was just making sure Tsubaki would be in the safest possible seat, between family. 

“I have...developed a tolerance for her sake,” Hanzo finally answered drily. He gave a slightly nervous clear of his throat. “Besides, she does not indulge in those hideous shirts you so liked to wear,” he attempted to tease back; the smile on his face more akin to a grimace than anything. He nudged Tsubaki’s knee gently. _“This is your uncle, Genji. Introduce yourself properly,”_ Hanzo encouraged. 

“It is a pu-puleas- pleasure, to meet you, Uncle. I am Tsubaki,” she greeted in halting English, accent heavy; face screwed up in solemn concentration before breaking out into a pleased smile at her own success. 

Hanzo watched their interaction with bated breath. Genji was so still after hearing her name, like he would disappear with the tiniest breath before life was breathed back into him and he offered Tsubaki his hand. “No, the pleasure is mine, Niece” he greeted back warmly. Tsubaki put her hand in his, giving him a firm shake with a bright smile. 

“Tsubaki, hm? It is a beautiful name,” Genji mused aloud, tilting his head in Hanzo’s direction. 

Tsubaki looked up at Hanzo before turning her attention back to Genji. “Thank you! Mama said it was Father who named me,” she beamed. 

Hanzo cleared his throat once more and tried to sit up a little straighter, his gaze face looking anywhere but at Genji’s. To observe the other members. 

“Let’s get introductions underway,” Winston called. “Uhm, as you all know, I am Winston. I am the temporary head of operations for this organization. You have met Athena,” he gestured at the flashing ‘A’ symbol, “she can answer any questions you may have.” 

“Hello,” a cool, feminine voice greeted. 

“And I’m T-racer! Well, that’s my code name, but you can call me Lena on base! Lena Oxten~” The bubbly voice with a british accent had come from a slim girl seated closest to Winston. Introductions went in a circle from there with each member seemingly widely different from the other in the way in which they presented themselves. None of them projected hostility towards Hanzo, for which he was pleasantly surprised, but there was a quiet wariness among some of the older members, Hanzo noticed. Smiles which didn’t quite reach high enough to hide the glimmer of suspicion in their eyes. He had given a nod of acknowledgement to each of their introductions, meeting their eyes head-on; Tsubaki following his example and nodding her head along, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically to be taken seriously, but trying none-the-less. 

The introductions complete, the meeting commenced and Hanzo sat straighter, the picture of a yakuza prince in his composure and ease of speech. 

“I think, it would be in Overwatch’s best interest to _not_ send Tsubaki away in the interest of ‘safety’. Even if I could, she has no one else to take her in. Would you leave her to Talon’s mercy, considering that one day she will come into a dragon, or dragons, of her own?” he had argued calmly. Tsubaki was looking anxiously on, but did not complain about how long the meeting was or protest being the subject of it. She just reached for Hanzo’s hand for support, and he offered it to her, palm up without even looking away from the other members. 

Her eyes had widened at the flowers blooming brilliantly upon his palm. She opened her mouth to speak up, but paused. Father was busy. She could tell him later, but sneaking a glance at her uncle...She couldn’t tell with the visor on, but she had the feeling he had seen the flowers too. 

❀ ❀ ❀

The meeting adjourned, Hanzo left feeling pleased with himself and let his shoulders slump ever so slightly in relief. “How are you feeling? Are you getting hungry yet?” he asked, crouching down to eye level with Tsubaki. 

“I am fine, Father,” Tsubaki whined, a tad embarrassed to be doted upon in public. It wasn’t convincing when her belly rumbled. Hanzo quirked an eyebrow, giving her a chance to amend her answer. “...May I have a...a…,” she tried to find the word in her head and settled for japanese, “... _snack?_ ” 

“Snack,” he reiterated in English for her. Reaching into his breast pocket, he brought out a tiny package of panda cookies for her. As he handed her the cookies, she grabbed at his left hand, turning his palm over. _“Look, Father! They are so pretty,”_ she cooed, looking up at him with barely contained excitement. So proud to have noticed something before her father had. Hanzo was stunned, quickly closing his palm and hiding the brilliant bloom of red racing across his palm like fire. When had they bloomed? Who had they bloomed for? 

“Brother. Angela has requested that you two meet her in the med-bay for a check-up.” Genji tilted his head as Hanzo hid his hand quickly. “Ah...yes. We shall head there now,” he murmured distractedly. 

“Uncle, would you like a cookie?” Tsubaki offered, remembering her manners. 

“Haha, I am fine, Tsubaki-chan. Thank you,” Genji replied, patting her head. 

“Let me walk you there,” Genji offered, settling into step beside Tsubaki and sandwiching her between him and Hanzo as she ate. Silence fell over for them as they walked down a maze of cookie cutter corridors. 

“You know…” Genji began softly, turning his head to Hanzo. “I have...found my soulmate. Even without the flowers,” he confessed, looking down at Tsubaki. “So please, brother, do not feel guilty for what has been done. I hope that we can move on from here.” He offered Hanzo his hand as a peace offering. 

Hanzo stared at Genji’s hand, the hand he knew once held beautiful crimson blossoms along his wrist and the back of his hand, wide petals with a golden center. Tsubaki flowers. Now an unfamiliar hand was offered to him, covered in synthetic white armor plating with grooves running down it towards robotic jointed fingers. Hanzo reached his hand out to grasp it slowly, willing the tremor in his hand to fade. He could only brush his fingertips along Genji’s fingertips before pulling his hand away. “Thank you, brother,” Hanzo whispered, looking conflicted. 

Genji let it drop. They would have time to repair their relationship, baby steps at a time. With a familiar nod of his head, two fingers up in a ninja’s salute, he departed. Tsubaki waved good-bye before being ushered inside by Hanzo. 

“Medical records are in order...I shall review them later to make sure everything is not amiss. Have there been any problems that you’ve been experiencing lately?” Angela asked coolly, the picture of professionalism as she pulled up the records on her tablet. 

“No.”

“And how about you Tsubaki? How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Angela asked, smiling down at her. 

“I am...hungry?” she replied truthfully. 

“Haha, well, we will have to fix that soon, won’t we?” Angela laughed. “Hmm...I suppose the only things we have left to do for now is to take some blood samples and give Tsubaki the appropriate vaccinations local to Gibraltar.” Angela looked to Hanzo for consent, to which he nodded. 

Tsubaki knew the drill, having travelled often with Hanzo before, and getting vaccinations was nothing new or scary to her. But still, she held out her hand to Hanzo, to which Hanzo chuckled and indulged, his left hand sliding into Tsubaki’s. He caught Angela trying to hide her laughter politely behind her hand, but also didn’t miss how her eyes widened when she saw the flowers on his palm. Curious, Hanzo gave her a questioning look, to which she averted her eyes, ‘preoccupied’ with drawing the blood and administering the shot. 

“Ahmm…congratulations on the blooms. Have you met your soulmate yet?” Angela asked cautiously. 

Hanzo narrowed his eyes, wondering how much the good doctor knew. He surreptitiously glanced at her hands; not that he was expecting anything. Neither of the flowers blooming on her hands matched his. But he had a feeling she knew who did. “Perhaps I have,” Hanzo gave a small shrug of his shoulders. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Maybe he had met them at the meeting. Or perhaps he’d passed them by at Gibraltar’s airport. “Have you?” he asked, not unkindly, looking pointedly at the flowers adorning her right hand. 

“Ah, yes,” Angela blushed, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “S-She’s away right now. But i’m sure you’ll meet her soon,” she smiled sweetly, thinking of her partner. She blinked, remembering where she was at and the blush darkened. “Ah, well, I am sure you two must be very tired and hungry, so you have my leave, unless you had any other questions?” she asked, a little too quickly to be casual. 

Hanzo thought about it...Did he really want to know?

“Hm...I think that will be all doctor...Though, you would not happen to know what kind of flowers these are...would you?” he asked, pointing at the red ones. 

“I am afraid not. I am sure you could ask Athena or even Mei,” Angela offered, eyes a little guarded. 

“I see.” Hanzo gave a small bow of thanks before leaving with Tsubaki. 

❀ ❀ ❀

Angela rubbed her eyes after the two had left. Admittedly, she was a little wary of Hanzo but he was, at least, very polite and it looked like he was raising little Tsubaki well. She traced the little white and gold flowers on her hand and the heavy, dark blue blossoms framing them. The red flowers that decorated Hanzo’s palm...she’d seen them before. Long, long ago. She glanced at the door where the two had left through. 

‘I wonder how Jesse will take this,’ she thought to herself, a solemn look on her face. 

She had reluctantly given her blessings when Genji had brought up wanting to bring Hanzo back to Overwatch. Genji had changed so much in some ways since she first met him, at peace with the world and...happy. If he could forgive his brother, then she had no room to interfere. But… Jesse on the other hand…

She shook her head. Things will happen as they happen. There was no point in fretting over it. 

Was there?


	2. Chapter 2

Hanzo awoke in a panic. There was no one beside him. Tsubaki. Where was Tsubaki? He sat up quickly, looking around for her, but she wasn’t in their shared room. It took him a few seconds to even remember where he was at, Gibraltar, Overwatch, a place that should be safe. He was reasoning to himself that she should be fine, but it took the appearance of Mizuchi to put Hanzo at ease. If Mizuchi was here, then that meant Haku was with Tsubaki. And if they were in trouble, Mizuchi would know. 

But still. Hanzo felt ill at ease leaving Tsubaki on her own on unfamiliar grounds, even as nice as the other Overwatch agents were. He bustled out the door as soon as he could, only to be met with a solid wall of flesh that he nearly bounced off of. Two very different hands settled on him, steadying him as well as a cry of “Whoa there!” 

“My apologies…” Hanzo grunted in surprise, promptly stepping away from those hands. He looked up to see who he’d run into, with a slight tilt of his head in confusion at what he saw. The man looked handsome enough, even though half his face was shadowed by a broad-brimmed stetson with...gold bullets? Decorating the trim of it. The man was rugged, a shaggy beard framing his jaw. He was dressed in a red flannel tucked over a bit of a soft belly into worn looking jeans and gods above, leather boots with actual spurs on them. 

“...Ah. I believe we have not met. I am Hanzo Shimada,” he introduced himself with a slight bow, hiding his surprise with politeness for now. After the unusual cast of characters at the meeting, he supposed he couldn’t be surprised by a real life cowboy. 

“Oh, Genji’s brother, huh? The name’s McCree,” the cowboy introduced himself in turn, tipping his hat in greeting, but the warmth in his earlier tone seemed to have bled out into a just barely pleasant tone. 

Hanzo eyed the other man warily. He had not heard of McCree, but judging by the tone, he was one of Genji’s friends from before the recall. “Yes…” Hanzo answered softly, subtly skirting around the cowboy. Mizuchi skirted up from Hanzo’s arm up to his shoulders, eyeing the cowboy with interest. “Please, excuse us. I have urgent matters to attend to,” he bowed again, but kept his eyes on the cowboy, like an opponent on the mat who didn’t trust his sparring partner not to attack preemptively. 

“Uh huh,” the cowboy answered easily. “Well, how about I help you find your way. I know the base can be mighty easy to get lost in for new people. Wouldn’t want you to end up somewhere you didn’t want to be,” he offered with a lazy drawl. It was a pleasantly worded offer, but Hanzo knew better. The cowboy didn’t trust him to be left unsupervised. 

“...As you wish,” Hanzo answered stiffly. He couldn’t blame the cowboy for mistrusting him, considering his past, but it still irked him to have a chaperone. 

They walked in uncomfortable silence for a time before McCree spoke up, breaking the silence. “You even know where you’re heading?”  
“...the cafeteria,” Hanzo replied smoothly, as if he knew all along. He didn’t know where Tsubaki was, but the kitchens would be a good place to start. 

They walked in silence for a little ways more, but it seemed McCree was not one for the quiet. “So...hear ya came in with a little tyke. What’s her name?” 

“Tsubaki.” 

“Hmm...Remember Genji tellin’ me ‘bout his flowers once,” he gave a side-eyed glance at Hanzo. “If I recall right, he called them Tsubaki flowers. Mighty shame he never got to find out what the other blossoms were.” 

Hanzo adopted a stony face, seemingly unperturbed by McCree’s words, though the guilt churned inside him and he felt his heart squeeze in pain. Sensing Hanzo’s unease, Mizuchi coiled closer, nuzzling his jaw with his little nose and making small purring noises to soothe him. Hanzo almost missed Mizuchi flicking his long, long tail and clipping the brim of McCree’s hat, almost knocking it off. 

“Feisty critter, ain’tcha?” McCree muttered under his breath, readjusting his hat. 

Hanzo sped his pace, desperately trying to recall the way to the kitchens; the heavy clink, clink, clink of spurs haunting his steps. McCree began to whistle a jaunty tune, oblivious -- or perhaps celebrating, Hanzo’s discomfort. 

“Father!” Tsubaki cried in delight, already seated at the table with more food in front of her than she could possibly eat. Haku sat with her, head tilted up regally, regarding everyone with disdain. _”I did not want to wake you, so Haku walked me to the kitchens. _” She swung her feet cheerfully under the table, short little legs not even close to reaching the floor. Mizuchi left Hanzo’s shoulders to join Haku, but unlike his more imperious counterpart, Mizuchi was quick to snap up a half of one of Tsubaki’s sausages. “Roadu-hog-san made me this,” she chirped happily, gesturing at the giant omelet gracing her plate as well as a generous serving of sausage and tomatoes.__

__“I see. And did you remember to say thank you?” he asked, quirking a brow and relieved to see her okay. He never thought he’d be relieved to be in the presence of other company; such was his desire to escape from McCree._ _

__“I did! Did I not?” she asked to make sure._ _

__Roadhog gave a silent thumbs up, resuming his task of cooking food for himself. Hanzo half wondered how Tsubaki had managed to hustle food out of the other man. He had a feeling she might have gotten some of Genji’s charm passed down the line. Perhaps that and her negotiating skills from Hanzo._ _

__“Hey, Roadhog, got enough for one more?” McCree asked hopefully._ _

__Roadhog only gave an amused gurgling chuckle and finished up sizzling the last of the sausages for his platter and leaving McCree behind._ _

__“Well, worth a shot. How about you sweetpea? Don’t fancy you could give little ol’ me a share?” McCree asked Tsubaki with an easy-going grin._ _

__Tsubaki tilted her head, a little puzzled by McCree’s drawling accent as she tried to piece together what he said. “You want to eat?” she asked, to make sure._ _

__“Well, only if you’re offerin’,” McCree’s grin widened._ _

__“Heh,” Tsubaki laughed. Hanzo hid a small smile before shuffling away to make tea. As long as McCree only had a problem with Hanzo. It would take a truly odious adult to hold a grudge against a child._ _

__“I could give a little,” Tsubaki mused aloud, her tone playful._ _

__“But?”_ _

__“But you have to play cowboy with me,” Tsubaki demanded._ _

__“Done.”_ _

__“And you get to be the pony!”_ _

__“What?! Now Little Missy, you drive a hard bargain.”_ _

__“And. I want to wear your hat,” Tsubaki added in smugly._ _

__“Fine. But I get a whole sausage,” McCree bargained back._ _

__“Done.” Tsubaki held her hand out to shake. McCree took it with a bark of laughter. Hanzo sighed, seeing the expectant look on her face and scrounged the kitchen for a clean dish for her; letting her dole out McCree’s serving. She still had more on her plate than McCree did on his by the end. Though perhaps that was partially Mizuchi’s fault as he stole bites from the cowboy’s plate whenever it was left unguarded. It seemed he still held a small grudge against McCree for upsetting Hanzo. Despite the rocky start with McCree, he couldn’t help softening his face at how well the cowboy was treating Tsubaki._ _

__❀ ❀ ❀_ _

__Winston had wanted a full assessment of Hanzo’s skill before he was sent on any missions, such as how well he would work with the other members and for which missions he would be most suited. Tsubaki was once again being chaperoned by Haku and last he saw, she was helping Mei with collecting samples._ _

__“I was told you are an excellent swordsman?” Winston had asked._ _

__“Not anymore. Forgive me, but my talents lie with the bow now,” Hanzo had corrected firmly._ _

__“How surprising. Thought you could fillet a fish with how well you cleaned up Genji,” McCree had commented. Hanzo had paled almost imperceptibly, but did not deign to respond._ _

__Caught in the crossfire, Winston could only clear his throat nervously. “Agent McCree, please keep such commentary to yourself,” the gorilla reprimanded. “Apologies, Agent Shimada. Please, continue.”_ _

__The questioning continued for a little longer, Winston asking about the types of jobs Hanzo had taken and if he had ever encountered an organization called Talon along the way._ _

__Hanzo was relieved by the time Winston had called for the simulations to start. First a solo round for Hanzo, and then team practices once the other members finished up their breakfasts and showed up. Feeling his troubles melting away and the doubts scattering with his arrows, he threw himself into his practice, focus entirely on hitting his marks - effortless. “Simple geometry,” he muttered quietly, finishing the simulation with 100% accuracy in a span of five minutes._ _

__A whistle of appreciation breaks the silence, and Hanzo was pleasantly surprised by how strong the pleasure was coursing through him; especially since it had come from the cowboy who seemed surprised himself and quickly schooled his expression back to one that was unimpressed._ _

__❀ ❀ ❀_ _

__Team exercises had gone well and Hanzo felt sufficiently tired. He felt a hand on his shoulder in passing; his body growing tense as McCree passed him with a gruff, “Not bad, Archer.” It was a pleasant surprise; one Hanzo hadn’t been expecting and he could feel warmth rushing up his cheeks. The gunslinger was gone before he could even begin to form a ‘thank you’. He had admired the gunslinger’s skill, and hearing the other man compliment him brought an inexplicable flutter in his stomach. He quashed the feeling, shaking his head and clearing his thoughts before seeking out where Tsubaki had gone off to now._ _

__He found her in the Rec room with Hana, Genji, and Lucio, playing what looked like pokemon. The two were utterly preoccupied with playing what looked like a memory game, chalk drawn arrows on a board being gestured at by some pink pokemon with red horn-rimmed glasses. Tsubaki’s eyes were narrowed in such concentration as she tried to memorize the sequence before her. Hanzo smiled fondly. A memory of Tsubaki’s mother surfaced, teasing her daughter about how she took after her father whenever she made such an expression. The teasing of how she’d inherit Hanzo’s perpetually grumpy face and the horrified protests of ‘Noooo.’_ _

__He broke out of the memory just as exaggerated groans of disappointment escaped Genji and Lucio and an excited challenge of, “You’re on, shortstack!” was issued. The memory mini-game had just ended and Tsubaki and Hana, it seemed, were now locked for first place with one last mini-game to determine the winner. A glance at the time and Hanzo figured he should at least get the kids some snacks going. He didn’t know how long they’d been playing, but he could hear Tsubaki’s tummy protesting its emptiness._ _

__Genji had given up on the game and joined him in the kitchen. His visor was off, and Hanzo swallowed thickly, avoiding looking at his scarred visage. He began to slice up apples, methodically lifting up twin peaks to make bunny-apples._ _

__“Hmm…?” Genji began, amusement lacing his tone._ _

__“Hush,” Hanzo preemptively stuck an apple slice into Genji’s mouth, freezing at his actions. Was Genji even capable of eating anymore? Had he overstepped his bounds? He hadn’t even been thinking about it, he had just done it subconsciously._ _

__“Gee, Hanzo. How come you never made me any apple bunnies?” Genji teased, relentless._ _

__“Because I was too busy holding your head up out of the toilet,” Hanzo replied, deadpan. The brothers stared at each other evenly before breaking into soft chuckles._ _

__“So…” Genji began, awkwardly. “I see you are no longer a virgin, brother,” he commented, looking at Tsubaki. Hanzo smacked him in the face with another apple. “And you always told ME to use protection,” he snickered. Hanzo gave an exasperated sigh and pleaded with the gods for patience. He finished slicing up the apples quickly and fled back to the couches where the conversations would be kept child friendly._ _

__“Aww, how cute!” Hana and Lucio cooed together, sharing in the apples with Tsubaki. The atmosphere was comfortable as they turned off the games and settled for a movie, the lights dimming. Hanzo was tucked into the couch at the very end, Tsubaki tucked into his lap and her head leaning against his chest; Genji leaning heavily on his arm. Hana’s head was resting on Lucio’s shoulder as they watched Spirited Away. It was nostalgic and comforting. Hanzo had dozed off before he even realized it._ _

__❀ ❀ ❀_ _

__A child’s laughter rang from a distance, along with someone else’s. A woman’s. It sounded familiar, soothing, and Hanzo sought them out. A path lined with trees full of brilliant, red blossoms led the way, no other path left to him unless he wanted to travel out into the empty whiteness. The petals fell slowly, bright like blood against snow, and he was filled with unease. It was as he continued down the path that the petals fell faster and faster, the petals multiplying into whole blossoms, crimson and blinding. Tsubaki flowers, Hanzo realized, running now, trying to escape their hold on him. His skin felt wet, and he hoped it was sweat, but he knew that familiar warmth, too thick to be anything else. He held up his hands in horror as the fiery red ink of those unnamed flowers on his palm bled into the blue hydrangeas and crept higher up into his dragon tattoo. He was choking on the flowers now, their scent so strong it was dizzying and he couldn’t seem to get enough air--_ _

__He awoke silently, despite the nightmare that consumed him. It was nothing new, and he was glad for the training that kept him from awaking with a cry. Tsubaki was still sleeping soundly. He had taken her to bed after the movie. Haku and Mizuchi turned to look at him questioningly, but he shook his head. He left them coiled atop of her, needing to get a breath of fresh air._ _

__He was not alone. Atop the roofs, someone was playing a melancholy song in a deep, honeyed voice. He sat at the foot of the building, soothed by the song, though he knew not what they were singing. It was a foreign language, but the feel of the song resonated well with him and he could feel his racing heart slow and calm under their sway._ _

__“Ya gonna just sneak around like a snake in the grass?” a southern drawl asked._ _

__Hanzo blinked, not realizing the song had stopped for some time before cautiously climbing his way up to the top to face the other. Of course it would be McCree he would run into. Fortune was not one to smile upon him._ _

__“My apologies, Agent McCree. I did not mean to eavesdrop.”_ _

__“‘S Fine.” The cowboy regarded Hanzo with a lazy grin. “Used ta sing to Genji too, back whenever he would hit his low points.” He gave a soft whistle. “There used ta be some real bad nights…” The look in McCree’s eyes was a haunted one and Hanzo wanted nothing more to run away. Too haunted for a friend, and Hanzo began to have his suspicions._ _

__“You love my brother.”_ _

__“More than you did, apparently.”_ _

__Hanzo was silent a moment, contemplative._ _

__“Thank you for taking care of him,” he finally settled on. “Your song was beautiful,” he added tentatively before bowing to the other man and retreating back into the shadows._ _

__Hanzo slept once more, fitfully, with only the haunting echoes of a song all he could remember of his dreams. He awoke with a tickle in his throat, like the early onset of a cold, and a vibrant red petal, spindly and innocent on his pillow, but filling him with horror nonetheless._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I'm sorry if it doesn't seem like i'm focusing on the McHanzo enough ; v ; We'll get there! I promise! It's just so fun to write Tsubaki's interactions with the other members of Overwatch. I kind of imagine her as a sassy child who takes after Hanzo a lot?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so this is a pretty long chapter with lots of stuff packed into it > u O)b I have to thank you all so much for the support you’ve shown for this fic! It really helped fire up my muse to get this chapter up and at ‘em for y’all~ <3

Hanzo closed his eyes and counted down slowly. 10...9....deep breaths in between each number as he willed the cough to subside. The ticklish feeling remained, but the urge to cough had retreated...for now. He’d been successful so far in hiding his ailment. The mission came first and he couldn’t bother to be distracted by the cowboy, wouldn’t let his gaze be caught drifting to the scruffy gunslinger whenever he heard that rich, smoky laugh...He held his breath, neck muscles tensing as he pushed down another urge to cough. McCree glanced at him and he willed himself to stare back disdainfully, as if the disgust on his face wasn’t meant for himself and the wretched flower petals which were dead set on climbing their way up out of this throat. 

He turned his head away, dismissing the pang in his heart as he felt the weight of McCree’s frown upon him. It was only momentary, like all their interactions. Fleeting moments of pain that Hanzo had learned to bottle up; a treatment he had never found an alternative to falling back on. It was an uneventful mission, a trial really, to test Hanzo’s skills out on the field. And a perfect test of his ability to withhold the flowers, he thought to himself. 

Yet he couldn’t help relaxing minutely over time while in the presence of the cowboy. McCree was reminiscent of the desert, Hanzo thought. An open expanse of sand, his emotions flowing freely across his face without a cloud in the sky, hot in his passions, scorching in his anger. He enjoyed the easy-going heat of the cowboy’s presence, how he livened things up and kept the other members amused with his antics. And yet belying all that, Hanzo knew there was more underneath his exterior.There were skeletons hidden beneath the sandy dunes and who knows what else, and Hanzo could see it in the lapses between McCree’s laughter, like the desert at night, cold and mysterious. He startled slightly, trying to pull himself out of his observances on the other. 

Hanzo tucked himself back into the shadows of the alcove he was taking cover in. Even with his face hidden, he couldn’t help but to school his features back into a neutral expression out of habit. What had his brother called it? Resting bitch face. Not that Hanzo particularly minded, it had helped him out of more than one sticky situation. Intimidation worked very well to get what he wanted, and even better at keeping unwanted attention away. 

It was movement out of the corner of his eye as he eased out a slow exhale that caught his attention. He drew Storm Bow and let loose a sonar arrow. A small group of figures lit up in red in his vision and he connected the visuals to Athena to share with the rest of the group. The rest of the team drew their weapons, immediately on the alert. He nocked another arrow, waiting for the first of the intruders to poke their head around the corner...The first motioned to move forward. “Foolish,” Hanzo laughed softly under his breath. He readjusted his arrow, impulsively feeling the need to impress. It wasn’t because the cowboy was there, he told himself. It was to send a message, he reasoned. He let the arrow fly, enjoying the rush of the feathers underneath his fingertips leaving his hand; the whistle as the arrow bit through the air to curve perfectly around the corner. Headshot. 

“Show off,” McCree muttered softly into the comm, grudging appreciation evident in his tone. 

Hanzo couldn’t help but feel a little smug. 

Another cough rose unbidden to his lips and he cleared his throat, trying to stifle the flowers. 

❀ ❀ ❀

The symptoms were minor at first, but Hanzo knew they would worsen in the end. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it forever, especially not from Tsubaki. For now, he could only smile and give the excuse of allergies whenever he saw McCree laughing with the others, the need to cough worsening when he saw the cowboy smiling so affectionately for everyone else but him; Tsubaki looking up to him questioningly as he coughed into his hand and clenched the offending petals tightly in his hold to be disposed of later. 

Worst of all was the envy he felt bubbling up inside of him as Genji was treated with all the affection Hanzo knew he himself was undeserving of. He hated that he was pining after the cowboy with wishful thinking. 

Helping out with chores around base to keep himself busy seemed the best way to keep the cowboy from occupying his thoughts. 

“Thanks for helping out!” Mei chirped, smiling brightly up at Hanzo. He was helping her weed out her gardens. A balmy breeze was blowing in from the ocean and the sky was bright and clear. Tsubaki was helping water the plants, singing some child’s tune as she waved the elephant shaped watering can over the flowers. He smiled softly, happy to see her enthusiasm. They had been at Gibraltar for a few months now, a record for them staying in any one place, and he had to admit the stability was...pleasant. 

“Not at all,” he answered. “And thank you for watching after Tsubaki,” he added, bowing his head gratefully. 

“Oh! It’s no problem! She is a great help!” Mei reassured with a laugh, waving her hands in front of her that it was no big deal. The corners of his mouth tilted up in a smile, finding the gesture cute. 

“I am glad. She seems...happier. Here, now,” Hanzo confessed, looking back down to his work. He grimaced at the flowers blooming on his hand. 

“And how about you?” Mei asked kindly, dusting her hands of the dirt. 

“I am…” Hanzo hesitated, thinking about it for a moment. He gazed at Tsubaki so cheerfully watering the flowers and then the blossoms themselves. The feel of petals tickling the back of his throat was omnipresent. But there was a measure of peace in him for the first time in a long while. Genji was...alive. Tsubaki was happy. And Hanzo himself…

“I am content,” he hummed finally. 

Mei smiled, pleased with his answer. “Let’s get some table flowers, shall we?” Mei asked, clapping her hands together, with an answering cheer of “Yes, please!” from Tsubaki. 

❀ ❀ ❀

Hanzo wasn’t one to drink on the job. He had certainly cut back (drastically) on his drinking once he’d met Tsubaki’s mother and even more so once Tsubaki was born, but right about now, he could use a drink. He gave a sidelong glance at the cowboy seated down the bar from him. Yeah, he could definitely use a drink, a strong one preferably, to burn away the taste and feel of silky petals weighing heavy on his tongue. 

McCree was busy gathering information from the others at the bar. Hanzo was content to just be the lookout for now. The spicy and heady scent of expensive cigars wafted around Hanzo, and he could almost imagine being back home in Hanamura, surrounded by his colleagues at some illicit meeting or other. The only difference was the obnoxious ringing of lottery machines pinging all around him and the clatter of poker chips hitting the tables. That, and the lazy southern drawl of a man who knew how to flirt and charm his way into anyone’s good graces, as he was doing now. Hanzo sucked in a sharp breath and ordered a cheap whiskey, something to get the burn going and take the edge off of things faster. 

He downed the drink quickly, barely tasting the alcohol but relishing the relief the burn brought. Perhaps it was time to do a little information fishing himself. He glanced once more at the cowboy, giving a small nod to him before setting off for the poker tables. McCree had narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but didn’t get up to stop him.

According to Winston, there were Talon arms dealers participating amongst the wealthy patrons, looking to finish a deal. While McCree was frisking the small fry for information, Hanzo would go play with the sharks. Hanzo scoped out the tables, eyeing up the bigger buy-ins. There were the rich elite, pretentious in their sparkling finery and holier-than-thou airs. And then there were their shadier counterparts, who flaunted their money as well, but did so with an edge to their smiles that spoke leagues about their backgrounds. It was the latter whose table Hanzo joined, the dealer’s warnings about how much the cost to get in the game quickly silenced as the credits were transferred without Hanzo even batting an eye. He sat close to a cocky, young thing - roughly in his early thirties and probably some bigwig’s son whose cologne smelt expensive but was layered on a tad too thickly. He already looked to be at least buzzed, and judging by the amount of chips in his pile, he was having a good night. A perfect candidate for information, and Hanzo indulged his good mood by flashing a coy smile at him as he slid into his seat. 

He had gotten into casually chatting with the other man, as well as getting acquainted with a few of the others at the table too in passing conversation, some of which were names he vaguely recognized being affiliated with the underworld. He was on a rather good winning streak, much to the jeers and complaints of his companions and figured now was a good time as any to end the game before he garnered any further attention. With a polite, “excuse me, gentlemen,” he cashed in his winnings and was sure to casually brush the young man’s shoulders as he left the table. He wasn’t disappointed to find the scent of that strong cologne chasing after him, an expected hand sliding over his shoulder as a slightly slurred voice suggested they find a seat in a private booth for a little conversation. 

They found themselves at the bar Hanzo had left McCree at and Hanzo was sequestered into an expensive private booth at the corner. His eyes were immediately drawn back to the cowboy and he couldn’t help the urge to cough into his hand as he saw the familiar figure pressed closely to some strange woman, McCree’s attention all for her and her friends who giggled at whatever he said and whose hands travelled up and down his arms admiringly. Hanzo tried to focus on his partner, to ply him for information. Drinks appeared before them, and Hanzo helped himself to another glass to drown out the flowers and the image of McCree’s flirty, heavy-lidded eyes who were meant for another. Hanzo vaguely paid attention to his partner who was all too happy to brag about his connections, to sell himself as an attractive bad boy who held the heady reins of power and -- Hanzo tunnel-visioned as McCree was pulled into a kiss by one of the girls. His hands shook as he tried to get another glass of whiskey to his lips, but the flowers would not be held back a third time. He was feeling light-headed with the attempts to hold back the coughs, and giving in to one only made it easier for the next cough and the next to escape his lips in a torrent. His throat felt sore and black dots were blossoming at the edges of his vision. The last he remembered seeing were red petals everywhere, mocking him and his weakness.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Wanna talk ‘bout it?” 

Hanzo gave a baleful look at McCree before looking back down at his hands, the flower tattoo in his palm hidden by his interlaced fingers. 

“No.” 

“Well now, partner, can’t keep actin’ like it didn’t happen. Not like it _jeopardized_ the mission or anything. Guess we should count our blessings it didn’t happen in the middle of, say, a battle or anything,” McCree continued sarcastically. 

Hanzo was equal parts grateful and horrified about the situation. He was grateful that it was still just McCree and him on the mission and that he hadn’t been outed to the entire team. But it was equally mortifying to be outed by the object of his affections and to have to be stuck with him until extraction. 

“And what do you wish to speak about?” Hanzo rasped, as scathingly as he could. “Forgive me if I am wrong, but I am well aware of your opinion of me.” 

“Well, excuse me, _sweetheart_ ,” McCree layered on the condescension. “Just cause I have a bullet with your name on it don’t mean I need ya to bite the bullet so soon. Since we’re cuttin’ to the chase, I think it would be in your best interest if ya go ahead and get that treated. Might as well since we’re here already,” he spread his arms wide, indicating their hospital setting. 

Hanzo’s eyes widened in horror at the suggestion and the callousness in which McCree had asked it. The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees, turning the cool hospital room chilly. The scent of ozone faintly seeped into the room and Hanzo could see McCree flinch and saw his hands twitch a little closer to Peacekeeper. Hanzo didn’t know what exactly he looked like in that moment, but it must have been threatening to say the least. 

“Leave,” he growled, almost inhuman in his tone. A blue spark flashed briefly in high contrast to his dark eyes. 

He was glad to see the cowboy scurry out the door before the tears of frustration came. He was tired, angry, and scared. Tired of hiding his condition. Angry at fate and how she had woven his threads, first against his brother and now aligned with another who hated him. Scared of this disease that he was slowly dying to - though it wasn’t death he feared. He feared leaving Tsubaki behind. He feared getting treated...of becoming his father. He laughed hysterically, picturing his father’s cold, pitiless gaze on him now, feeling just as small as he had in his youth. He didn’t want to become an emotionless pit. He had seen first-hand the effects of giving up one’s soulmate. And he had come so far with Genji, they were finally mending their relationship. How much more could he ruin it if he were to lose what few feelings he had left? And Tsubaki, who had so little as it was. He couldn’t fathom which would be worse for her, to live with a shell of her father or to lose him entirely. He wept and coughed and cursed the godforsaken red petals. And when he slept, he could only dream of foreign songs, distant and warped like being heard from underwater while a blanket of red petals covered him. 

❀ ❀ ❀

In the time that followed, Hanzo was relieved to find the cowboy maintaining a wary distance from him. Much to Angela’s dismay and understanding, Hanzo went untreated, and his condition became a poorly kept secret. It wasn’t hard for the team to notice the way in which McCree, normally so friendly and brazen, would actively go out of his way to avoid coming into contact with Hanzo and how Hanzo would frequently excuse himself. No one could not notice the red petals fluttering around base, petals which could not be found on any flower indigenous to Gibraltar’s base. 

Hanzo could only feel embarrassed at the treatment his coworkers gave him. The way in which they treated him as if he were delicate and the hurried reassurances and distractions they tried to provide Tsubaki whenever she voiced her concerns aloud. 

_“Think of it as father breathing fire,”_ Hanzo had teased once. _“Like a dragon,”_ he had smiled, but if the smile had looked forced, Tsubaki did not point it out. 

_“Then, if father is a dragon, then I’m the princess,”_ she said, opening her arms in a demand to be picked up. _“And Rein-jiisan says princesses are protected by dragons! Right, father?”_

 _”Yes, Tsubaki-chan,”_ Hanzo had answered, fighting to keep a waver out of his voice as he held her. 

❀ ❀ ❀

Hanzo’s and McCree’s uneasy truce had surprisingly held up for another few months yet. Hanzo was actually missing seeing the cowboy more; hated seeing the uneasy frown he brought to the other’s face whenever their gazes met. 

It was after a difficult mission where unexpected help had arrived in the form of the famous, thought-to-be-dead sniper Ana that things had changed. McCree had been in an uproar, both at the fact that she had been alive and had not contacted Overwatch until then, and at the news she had brought with her, on who Reaper truly was. 

Where everyone else had scattered and left McCree to cool down and avoid being lashed at, Hanzo had gone to seek the man out, against Genji’s advice. Hanzo had thought his brother would be the one to calm McCree down, but the cyborg had only shook his head and told Hanzo that McCree would calm down in his own time and it was best he be left alone til he was ready. 

But Hanzo had the sinking feeling that McCree was hurting. A familiar kind of hurt that Hanzo knew all too well when he parted from his brother to seek the cowboy out. 

The man was a mess, and Hanzo could see a picture of a younger Genji overlaying the cowboy. Messy tears falling down their faces in sync, eyes pleading for help, for relief from the pain. Back then, Hanzo had not known what to do for Genji. But now he had experience. He might not have been the best at comforting others, but he had gotten better since his youth, and he did not hesitate to pull the taller man into his embrace. An empathetic sigh left Hanzo’s lips as he held the other man tightly, reassuring him that he was not alone. His fingers combed through McCree’s hair as he would have Tsubaki’s, the texture coarse in comparison but no less soft than his daughter’s hair. The first broken heave left McCree’s lips in warning before the sobs came in a torrent, heartbreaking in their sorrow and frustration. The stiffness in McCree’s body relented as he gave himself to his tears, crumpling against Hanzo and holding him back tightly enough that the archer was sure he’d be bruised in the morning - but it didn’t matter. 

When the crying eased and the sniffles began, Hanzo allowed McCree to pull him down to crumple on the floor, exhausted. 

“This don’t change nothing.” 

“I know.” 

“I still don’t love you.” 

“I know.” And it still didn’t matter. Hanzo had not comforted the man in the hopes that his feelings would be returned. He had done so because he knew better than anyone, the pain of having to face ghosts he had thought long buried. 

❀ ❀ ❀

Things had fallen into an easy pace, one that Hanzo wasn’t sure yet if it was better or worse. Relationship wise, things were better than the beginning where McCree had been openly hostile towards Hanzo. Now they were able to greet each other civilly, could be in the same room as each other, and actually enjoy being around each other. But at the same time, it did nothing to lessen the coughing fits Hanzo was susceptible to. Rather it left him pining for McCree more than ever, and he sometimes wondered if things would have been better for him if they had kept to that uneasy circling around each other; avoiding seeing one another entirely. 

But it was no use pondering the what ifs. Regardless, Hanzo would have had to come into contact with McCree on missions at least, Overwatch being as small as it was, it would be difficult to not run into each other. It was probably for the best that they got along. Missions would go smoother if they did. Shouldn’t they?

The months passed by as they always did, Hanzo heedless of Angela’s pleas to get treatment and feigning obliviousness to the pitying and understanding looks Genji would give him. His brother never voiced a desire for Hanzo to get treated and neither did McCree ever bring it up to the archer again. But even ignoring the pain in his chest and treating the endless petals coughed up as a minor inconvenience, he couldn’t convince himself that things were okay. The petals were beginning to come up damp, a few spouting red specks, to which Hanzo disposed of quickly and privately. 

He continued to attend events with Tsubaki as if nothing were amiss: streaming sessions with Hana and Lucio that guest starred the father and daughter in friendly competition, tea parties with Ana and Roadhog, lessons with Symmetra and Mei who enjoyed taking on a bright and eager student. Daily things that helped Hanzo forget momentarily about the Hanahaki plaguing him and kept him from spending more time with the cowboy. 

McCree had certainly been kinder to Hanzo after the events that had transpired. Challenges at the range, invitations to go drinking, offers to look after Tsubaki so Hanzo could take a break from socializing… Thoughtful actions that left Hanzo feeling warm and sappy while also aggravating his symptoms, and he couldn’t help but try to distance himself from McCree in the hopes that that would lessen the progression. McCree was offering him friendship, he realized. It wasn’t love, but it was more than he had ever expected to be offered from the other man. 

But Hanzo couldn’t distance himself forever, at least, not without taking drastic measures, as he found himself slotted for a mission with McCree in tow once more. Fortunately enough, it wasn’t another two-man mission. They were just supposed to investigate criminal activity in Dorado, but that had quickly turned into a battle for their lives as they struggled to just even retreat back to their carrier. Hanzo provided cover fire as he could, but his arrows were not endless. 

His comm crackled with his teammates reporting their positions, and he was relieved to hear that they were growing close to the extraction point. Gun-fire rattled the streets endlessly and Hanzo could pick out the distinct sounds of Hana’s Meka and the shattering of Ana’s grenades. But what he realized he hadn’t heard in awhile was the distinctive crack of Peacekeeper going off. He scanned for McCree from the rooftops, but the cowboy was nowhere in sight, and he hadn’t radioed in to the team in awhile either. 

Worried, the archer sent sonar arrow after sonar arrow to try and pinpoint the cowboy’s location, eyes narrowing as he recognized the red silhouette of a hooded man holding large shotguns, pointed straight at the signature stetson that Hanzo knew so well. Hanzo raced towards McCree’s position, leaping across rooftops and racing along the narrow ledges of the buildings to reach him quickly. 

_‘Foolish cowman!’_ Hanzo thought in a panic. How could he have let himself get separated from the team?? Or worse yet, had he followed Reaper on his own? Hanzo wouldn’t have put it past McCree to do something as reckless as that. 

He had arrived just in time to fire a warning scatter arrow, one that the Reaper narrowly avoided before pulling McCree up to retreat. 

“Now hold on! I have business to settle!” McCree had sputtered in protest. 

“Now is not the time!” Hanzo huffed, gripping the cowboy’s arm tighter as they zigzagged down alleyways. It would have been faster to get back to the carrier if only McCree could wall-climb. It would have been faster going too if Hanzo would take the high ground and provide cover fire for the cowboy, but he didn’t trust McCree to not run straight back to Reaper, demanding answers. And maybe if he’d taken high ground, he would have seen that they were getting surrounded in a pincer attack. They were so close to the point. Hanzo could hear Reinhardt trying to clear a path for them in one direction with the rest of the team close behind the knight’s slow steps, indicating he was holding his shield up for them. He could hear the clatter of bullets shooting fruitlessly off the shield from a distance. And he could see the red crosshair of a sniper lining itself up to the middle of McCree’s head. He shoved the McCree down, already taking aim with his bow to send return fire back to the sniper, the both of them crashing heavily into the ground. 

One arrow left. 

_"Ryū ga waga teki o kurau!"_ he cried, loosing an arrow ahead of themselves, clearing a path for them to group up with their team. 

He hadn’t anticipated how taxing calling upon the dragons would become. A coughing fit wracked his body, his muscles locking up and screaming in protest at the stress he had put his body through, the petals falling from his mouth wetly along with a short stream of blood. Electricity crackled in the air and sparks ran along down his arm, igniting the unpleasant taste of copper on his tongue. The enemy team was pressing down on them. The earth tremored beneath them, and Hanzo half thought that it was just his vision shaking from how hard he was coughing, were it not for the rubble collapsing around them. 

So close. 

McCree yelling at him to get up, tugging at him to run.

Deadweight. 

Hanzo could see the narrow alleyway they were in collapsing slowly in bright clarity. McCree wouldn’t make it. 

Not carrying him. 

He staggered to his feet, clutching tightly at the cowboy’s serape, getting a secure grip on him. He didn’t have enough breath in him to apologize beforehand, could only brace himself as he threw the cowboy as hard as he could ahead of him. 

Hanzo dropped to his knees, legs too shaky to hold himself up any longer. He could see McCree yelling at him, trying to scuttle back to retrieve him before the rubble collapsed around him, cutting McCree off from his view. 

He closed his eyes. Overwatch would take care of Tsubaki. One agent lost was better than two. The beloved agent was better than the dying kinslayer.

_‘So long, cowboy.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, I promised a happy ending in the tags didn’t I? >:3c


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Made some edits to clarify a few things and build up on some other ideas~ Shout out to Aim for helping point me in the right direction o w o)b

The memory haunted him. His last image of Hanzo, bloody, broken, and tired. The look in those worn brown eyes as the blue sparks faded away. A look he’d seen before on many men: a look of resignation. And underlying that surface; endless sorrow. He could vividly recall the pale lips, painted bright red with blood as they mouthed a farewell. ‘So long, cowboy.’ Jesse gave a broken laugh, the tears stinging and prickling at his eyes. Even at death’s door, Hanzo wouldn’t go down without a flair for the dramatic. He sucked in a hissing breath, trying to hold back the tears. There was no one left to comfort him now, no one that he would have opened himself up to at least. No Reyes. No Hanzo…

He tried to chase away the last memory he had of Hanzo, tried to recall anything else but the empty rubble left behind. The team had called a retreat and had grouped up, thanks to Hanzo's dragons, but when they had finally gone in search of the archer, there wasn't a body to be found. Dread clawed at McCree's heart. What was left at the scene was a pool of blood that looked like it had something dragged through it and a sweep of petals like a morbid trail of breadcrumbs to signify where the archer had been. The memory was still vivid in his mind, of the bloody package sent not even a day later; a bloody bundle of Castilleja flowers in the peak of their bloom, roots intact and still dripping with barely cooling blood; spindly red petals mocking Jesse in particular for what he had lost. He gripped his left arm tightly, where he'd had those same flowers once; a phantom pain spiking up his limb. An emergency meeting had been called, and they had settled around the morbid package. Angela's face was pale and drawn. Genji was thrumming with barely contained rage. They all knew the implications of the package. The message was clear: Talon was keeping Hanzo -- alive and as their doll. And they weren't going to let their shiny, new toy break from Hanahaki.

Jesse tried to recall something else, anything else to distract him from the feeling of hopelessness that was weighing on him. He was calmed by the solid warmth of holding the archer tightly, of the feel of his tears wetting Hanzo’s skin at his shoulder. Of soothing hands combing through his hair. A pleasant floral scent tickling his nose as well as the barely there undertones of something coppery. That quiet strength that didn't expect anything in return from him. And when Hanzo needed his help the most, Jesse had let him down. 

He pulled to mind another memory, where he had felt as though he were intruding as he had happened upon Hanzo holding onto Tsubaki in a similar manner to the way he had comforted Jesse himself. Hanzo looked every bit the protective dragon, but hidden from Tsubaki’s sight, Jesse could see the sorrow etched into the tired dragon’s face. Sorrow he knew that he had been the source of. And he remembered running away; like he always did whenever he felt out of his depth. A coward who could brave battle recklessly but couldn't swallow his judgments long enough to realize that he'd been in the wrong. 

He thought back further, to brighter times and the memory of a sunny day as Hanzo sat with Tsubaki by the window, braiding fresh flowers into her hair; a wrinkle between his brows with concentration as he worked and listened intently to her every word with endless patience. To the Hanzo who, would smile softly at the other members. The Hanzo who puttered around base, cleaning up after everyone and looked after them almost as well as he did Tsubaki. Despite being a quiet man, the base had never seemed more silent without the elder dragon’s presence. Tsubaki’s laughter no longer rang down the halls. The dragons no longer wandered the base, causing trouble in one way or another. He had hated being drawn in by Hanzo's subtle warmth, had hated how his eyes were so easily drawn to the older man, and how easily he found himself letting his guard down around him, but now that Hanzo was no longer here, he found that he hated that even more. 

After they had returned from the mission, Jesse had expected great heaving sobs from Tsubaki, cries of why her father didn’t come back with them. But the silent tears and acceptance had hurt even worse; the picture of a small child grown up too soon. The solemnity in her face a tinier version of Hanzo. But it was only a tough exterior. He heard the muffled sobbing from behind the doors of Hanzo’s room in passing, along with the occasional, nonsensical murmuring of someone trying to comfort her. The last time Jesse had passed Hanzo’s door, he remembered seeing a tuckered out Tsubaki holding Genji’s dragon Midori close as she slept. 

And Jesse realized he missed the archer. Missed the fleeting smiles of adoration aimed his way if he would just turn his head quickly enough to catch them before they disappeared (though he had hated the uneasy fluttering in his stomach at the sight). Missed the cadence of the archer’s soft, husky voice (And he knew he had childishly provoked the dragon on more than one occasion just to hear more). Missed the rare opportunities in which he was able to invite the archer out for drinks; how hesitant Hanzo always looked but always gave in to Jesse’s invitations in the end, hope flickering in the archer’s warm brown eyes. And he had felt so conflicted; knowing that he had been stringing Hanzo along when he wasn't even ready or even knew if he was capable of offering the man more. So many missed opportunities for something more because Jesse was too late. Always too late. A Deadeye who couldn’t see what was before him. But at least he was a Deadeye who knew his way around, and he was determined to get Hanzo back.

❀ ❀ ❀

“I thought you hated Hanzo.” 

Jesse startled, too lost in his thoughts as he packed and got ready to leave base. 

“Genji,” he greeted, tipping his hat cautiously. He realized it wasn’t a question from the cyborg. 

“I...I thought I did too,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his head ruefully. “But… He’s a good man, it turns out. I was just the stubborn ass who couldn’t see it,” he added with a heavy sigh. “And I’m gonna make things right. Don’t try to stop me, Gen.” 

“Hm.” Genji pushed off from the doorway, entering further into Jesse’s room. “Far from it. It will be like the old days,” he threw an arm around Jesse’s shoulder. “I am coming with you. That does not mean I am giving you my blessings though,” he teased, though the attempt was half-hearted. He had been in a rage when he found out Hanzo hadn’t made it back with everyone else; so much so that even Zenyatta had difficulty getting him to calm down.

It had taken Jesse longer than he had hoped to get the vital information. He couldn’t imagine how long it would have taken him if he hadn’t had Genji helping to track Hanzo down. While the rest of the base was concerned with ethical procedure, Jesse and Genji had worked their way through Talon agent after Talon agent for information. One captured agent would lead to the next. They were so quick to scream the information Jesse wanted. And their voices became just another nightmare to add to Jesse's already extensive collection, but it was worth it, if it meant bringing their archer home. Jesse shuddered to think about what he must look like to the agents whose information he extracted. He could picture his face: a bland expression that didn't even show an ounce of remorse even as he watched the cherry-red tip of his cigar grow dull as it was ground out into flesh with a sickening sizzle. He could picture the slow, cruel smile on his face as Genji’s blade whistled in the air intimidatingly; the threat of what was to come after the cigar. A week spent of hunting down Talon agents, and finally it had paid off. 

They were told there was a high profile prisoner currently undergoing conditioning and that there was only one Talon institution for it hidden in the desert. Infiltration the institution had been easy, but now they were face to face with Hanzo. And they were on the wrong sides. 

Jesse almost ran to the archer, but instinct held him back. He looked unhurt for the most part, but Jesse suspected nanotech had had a hand in that. His gaze drifted slightly lower and his heart throbbed at the sight of a pale scar running down the archer's sternum - where the Hanahaki must have been removed. Another once-over and Jesse noted that Hanzo looked to be utterly at ease, appearing comfortable in his own skin for once, and exuded lethality in fatal doses. Hanzo was, Jesse realized, for the first time, not held back by his regrets. He no longer had that self-deprecating air, as though whether he lived or died was not a personal matter. He no longer looked troubled by the prospect of others’ deaths. Gone was the man who lamented softly with words of ‘so much death.’ He was ready to incapacitate Jesse and Genji both and demonstrated as such with an elegant flourish of his sword with a ‘come’ signal of his fingers; a mirror of what Genji did but without half the playfulness. There were no obvious chinks in his armor that Jesse could see, as the archer eased himself into a defensive stance; red eyes staring the two down imperiously. It was in that moment that Jesse had realized two things with startling clarity: that, for one, this might have been the Hanzo of ten years ago, and for two, would still be today, if he hadn’t become so broken. A memory of Hanzo's voice echoed in Jesse’s head: _‘Foolish.’_ And he was. The cold-blooded, brother-killer that he had convinced himself Hanzo was was nothing compared to the assassin standing before him right now. Talon had started to polish the perfect assassin, starting by removing all of Hanzo's hang-ups and leaving a blank slate to have orders written on and carried out. And Jesse was startled to feel the a flutter tickling up his throat, of something more corporeal than butterflies in his stomach.

“You think you can do better than me?” the Hanzo had mocked; interrupting Jesse's thoughts. 

The fight had been fierce and it was skewed in Hanzo’s favor. Neither Genji nor Jesse had wanted to hurt him, but that hadn’t stopped the archer from wanting to hurt them. The archer was efficient in his movements, nothing wasted as he casually deflected Jesse’s bullets and turning to roundhouse kick Genji in the same breath. The cyborg locked gazes with Jesse and tipped his head. They were going to have to do something quick if they wanted to take Hanzo in. Though they’d distracted the Talon base with an explosion on the outskirts, it wouldn’t be long until reinforcements came back. They were both flagging in energy and sported bruises and minor cuts from Hanzo’s blade. Time was running out. Genji dove in, a green blur, as metal screeched against metal. Jesse tried to circle around to Hanzo’s back, closer...closer...a flashbang was held at the ready. Jesse's heart raced. One misstep and he could lose his head to the dance of the brothers’ blades if he wasn’t careful. He threw the flashbang, but Hanzo was quick to intercept it, his sword parrying the grenade right into Genji, stunning the cyborg momentarily. It was Hanzo's opportunity to strike. 

“HANZO!” Jesse pleaded, tackling the elder Shimada to the ground. Hanzo tensed underneath Jesse before reversing their positions with a quick roll of his hips, his blade pressed to Jesse’s throat. Jesse had never been more grateful for his mechanical arm now as he held back the blade with a trembling hand.

“ANIJA!” Genji screamed. Jesse was faintly aware of the sound of steam being released. He was more focused on the blade edging closer to his throat. Once more, a green accented blade was held to the archer’s throat. Brown eyes stared into red, pleading. “Brother, please,” Genji begged, his blade nicking Hanzo’s neck. A bright red droplet of blood welled up. Recognition flashed in those red eyes. Red bled back into brown, surety replaced with confusion and horror. 

Jesse tugged the blade out of Hanzo’s loosened grasp and threw it hard across the room. And then he had an armful of archer as Genji promptly knocked Hanzo out and they were running, running from the alarms sounding as they broke free of the Talon base. Jesse ignored the reprimanding yelling over his comm as he requested an extraction from the closest safe house; Hanzo held tightly in his arms. 

❀ ❀ ❀

_‘It is too late, Jesse.’ Angela had given him a pitying look. ‘There is nothing left to do. Once the hanahaki has been treated, there is no going back. It is a rare enough disease as is, after all, who would want to cut off their soulmate? Let alone the side effect of losing their emotions. And there has never been a case of the flowers being resurrected. The best we can hope for is that Hanzo’s feelings recover on their own.’_

So the doctor had told Jesse, and judging by her expression, she didn’t believe Hanzo would recover his feelings. It was fortunate enough as it was that they were able to reverse Talon’s conditioning on him, but Jesse couldn’t stand seeing Hanzo like this. It was like the man was just going through the motions. He smiled as before, treated everyone just as gently as he did before, but his actions lacked the delicate warmth he used to give. He was like a doll; mimicking human emotions but unable to quite achieve the right effect. Even Haku and Mizuchi weren’t the same, the dragons listless and sleepy, as if they were a moment’s notice away from entering into a hibernative state. Muted. That’s what it felt like to Jesse, and he was horrified that he had ever even suggested the surgery to Hanzo once. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know the implications. Seeing Hanzo like this was...frightening. Again, Jesse was proven wrong. He had thought the archer stoic before, frigid in their early days, but now he could see that Hanzo had been expressive in his own way, subtly in the shift of his eyes and the minute shifting of muscles in his face. And Jesse couldn’t deny that it hurt him to see Hanzo like this. 

And Jesse had grown to love the Hanzo of before, had delueded himself that he wasn't for so long, until now, when it was too late, and Hanzo wasn’t in love with him anymore. He had waited too long to realize his feelings before and he had waited and waited for any kind of emotion to come back to the archer -- to no avail. He clenched a soft blue flower in his hands, crushing the delicate hydrangea petals. He had to do _something_. Anything to bring the archer back. 

With bated breath, Jesse had requested time with Hanzo, had invited him for drinks outside like they used to have on occasion. Jesse held Hanzo’s left hand loosely and Hanzo had let him. Hanzo had just given Jesse a blank look, head tilted with mild curiosity. Jesse had never seen the dragon so close, in such detail, never took the time to even when he had the chance. The dragon’s maw was gaping and fierce, encircling the entirety of the top of Hanzo’s fist. Beautiful and terrifying. He gently turned Hanzo’s hand over, saw what laid beneath; what he had refused to recognize before. What he could hardly recognize now. Where once had been soft blue blossoms and vibrant red adornments, now laid barren branches, a weeping black slash across from Hanzo’s wrist to his fingertips. Scorched. As though the dragon above had laid waste to the delicate flowers beneath. But Jesse knew better, knew the dragon was a refreshing rain that could build up into a thundering storm, able to drown even itself in its own crackling waters, but it could never be the scorching heat that burned everything dear to it to a husk. Not like Jesse was. A desert that could burn and burn and burn without relief, who could offer the lick of flames and a whipping tempest. He closed his eyes, could imagine the flames that burned up the Swiss headquarters, the burned bridges he’d left behind when he had fled… But not again. Not this time. Even though those flowers had been lost to Jesse once before, now eaten up by the cool touch of metal to replace their warmth, he could grasp them once more. To bring the sun to chase the rain away. To make those blossoms bloom once more. To accept his soulmate. 

“Hanzo…” Jesse began, daring to meet Hanzo’s eyes. The archer met his gaze evenly, politely, and Jesse could feel the flutter of petals in the back of his throat as he searched Hanzo’s gaze for even a grain of the old Hanzo. “I...I know I haven’t been the most gracious to ya. I know I’ve been a hypocrite -- I mean, I should have known better than anyone about wanting redemption,” he chuckled nervously and drew a hand down his face, trying to recompose himself. 

“It is okay, McCree,” Hanzo reassured quickly, lightly brushing Jesse’s knee with his fingertips. 

Jesse chuckled. He couldn’t believe that the archer was trying to comfort _him_ once more, even though he had clearly been in the wrong. He was about to open his mouth, but was cut off as Hanzo continued. 

“It is okay, McCree. I realize that my...affections were troubling for you. Now it is in the past, and I hope that… that I can now accept the friendship you had offered without the Hanahaki to hold me back,” Hanzo had offered, his gaze lowered humbly. 

Jesse felt his heart lurching, and he couldn’t help the rush of words as he interrupted the archer. “No! I mean, if that’s what you want Hanzo, but...Lemme just…” He gripped Hanzo’s hand tighter between his and sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. “When I first met you, I thought you were the worst person in the world. I flaunted your weakness in your face, and it...I guess it made me feel better about myself. That there was someone else in the world who was more wicked than me, but I was wrong. I was so, so wrong and I’m so sorry, darlin’--” Jesse gave a choked laugh. “Ya even went out of your way to comfort me at my low point, even after everything I said to you. Even after I told ya to get the surgery-- God, I wish so much that I could take that back now. And I realized that… I was pushing you away because deep down, I thought that I didn’t deserve a soul mate either. I’ve messed up so many things in my life, but… I want this to work. I miss you, Hanzo. I miss the smiles that I can’t believe were meant for me. I miss your little laughs. I even miss your jokes, even though they could be pretty bad,” Jesse laughed softly, reaching out to cup Hanzo’s cheek tenderly. He could see the consideration flickering in Hanzo's eyes, and hope flared up in his heart that Hanzo hadn't rejected him then and there. “Please, Hanzo, honeybee, dearest, forgive me? And if you could find it in your heart to give me a second chance…?” Jesse pleaded, pulling Hanzo’s left hand up to kiss his knuckles. His heart soared, seeing Hanzo biting his lower lip, looking uncertain, and he was determined to do everything in his power to put Hanzo's doubts to rest; to chase away any lingering misgivings that had been bred from Jesse's early hostility. “Please,” he whispered one more time, coaxing Hanzo a little closer, their lips almost touching, but settled for pressing his forehead to Hanzo’s, waiting for the other man’s permission first. He could feel Hanzo give a small nod, and tears welled up in his eyes in relief. “Thank you,” he murmured, closing the distance between them, his lips melding to Hanzo’s in a sweet kiss which the smaller man practically melted into with a soft sigh. 

❀ ❀ ❀  
It wasn’t happily ever after right away, but Jesse had been prepared for that. He had showered the archer with more affection that the man knew what to do with. Jesse had serenaded Hanzo with love songs, much to the archer’s embarrassment and the crew’s cheers and encouragements. He took every opportunity he could to hold hands with him, to press soft kisses to Hanzo’s cheek, to whittle down the other man’s guards as he should have done from the beginning. Comfortable days spent with the archer as pet names became easier and easier to tumble out of Jesse's mouth and iwhispered into Hanzo's ears. Lazy nights spent cuddled up on the couch, Tsubaki falling sleep in either of their laps and sometimes both. And Hanzo was opening up; his hesitancy slowly dissipating as he became more sure of himself in reaching out to Jesse in reciprocation. Together they gradually closed the distance between them. And slowly, ever so slowly, the flowers on Hanzo’s wrist began to bud and the blue petals that fluttered from Jesse's lips grew less and less. 

And there was of course, another matter that Jesse had on his list to address. While Hanzo was away on a mission, Jesse had taken over babysitting Tsubaki. He had let her sit him down to comb his hair and attempt to braid it with flowers like Hanzo had done for her. But before he could even begin to form the words to guess her feelings about his spending so much time with Hanzo, Tsubaki had started the conversation. 

“Are you going to take father away?” she had asked quietly. 

“No, sweetpea, no,” McCree had started quickly. “I was actually hoping that...you’d accept me into your family. If you wanted. I don’t want you feeling like i’m taking your dad away. Or replacing your mom...but if you don’t want me to, then I’d understand,” McCree had rumbled softly. 

Tsubaki stayed quiet for a few moments, small hands trying to gather up McCree’s hair and fumbling slightly as she separated the hair out into three strands. “Father is happy,” she began, scrunching her face up in concentration. “And...I guess I don’t mind adopting a pony,” she giggled. 

“Why you cheeky monkey,” McCree chuckled, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he seemed to have gotten her approval. 

“You’re not going to make father breathe fire again...are you?” she asked hesitantly; so softly McCree could have missed it. “No honey. It’s my turn to do the protecting so the dragon and the princess can rest easy,” he promised. “I pinky swear,” he added, offering her his pinky. A tiny pinky hooked with his in promise. 

❀ ❀ ❀ 

_‘Dragon’s breath,’_ Jesse thought absently, seeing his breath come out in cloudy puffs in the cold air. He glanced down at his side, a smile on his face. 

“Hey now, not going to take advantage of this cold to be the dragon you always wanted to be?” he teased softly, leaning down to nuzzle Hanzo’s cheek through the other man’s scarf. Hanzo was so cute, wrapped up tight in a thick scarf covering half his face. The older man was bundled up snugly, and in Jesse’s favorite red serape no less, he noted fondly. Hanzo gave a small huff of amusement and snuggled into Jesse’s side more; the gunslinger wrapping his arm tighter around his archer’s waist. 

“Too busy trying to steal all my warmth instead, aintcha?” Jesse laughed. 

“Hush, cowboy,” Hanzo chided, without any bite. He wasn’t denying it either. 

They were just coming back from a mission at King’s Row when they were met at the door by a grinning Hana and Lucio and Tsubaki perched on Genji’s back with the dragons acting as her scarves. 

“Welcome back!” Hana and Lucio snickered. 

“Surprise!” Tsubaki and Genji cheered, pointing at the top of the door. 

A sprig of shiny green leaves with white berries was held to the door with a red ribbon. “Mistletoe. Really? Y’all have too much free time,” McCree laughed, swinging Hanzo around to face him in his arms. “You know what this means, darlin’?” he asked, waggling his brows. 

“I think I might have a guess,” the dragon answered dryly. And before McCree could swoop down to steal a kiss, Hanzo had already pulled his scarf down and stood up on tiptoe, hand sliding around the back of Jesse’s neck to pull his cowboy down for a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed the ending! I know I certainly enjoyed writing this series, and I debated making this chapter longer, but thought a short and sweet epilogue would suffice <3 I would love to hear y'all's thoughts on the ending, and as always, thank you all so much for your time!

**Author's Note:**

> Ajisai - hydrangeas  
> Tsubaki - camellias
> 
> Come drag me on Tumblr: http://mermaidroru.tumblr.com/


End file.
